Prison Visit
by dyslexic-Carmie
Summary: Oneshot. When France is locked up in an American prison Spain comes for a visit. Let's see if the Frenchman can get the Spaniard to bail him out.


"You don't seem too happy, amigo," his guest said on the other side of the viewing glass.

The Frenchman sighed, and didn't look up from the disgusting tile that was supposed to be floor of this nauseating prison. "Would it make sense for me to be happy?"

"You have a visitor, France, isn't that something to be happy about?"

France looked up from the revolting floor. "I guess, but you're not-" He cut himself off feeling embarrassed.

"I'm not who?" his visitor asked.

The Frenchman blushed. "Not important."

"Were you expecting England?"

"I said that it wasn't important."

"Okay, I wouldn't demand a answer."

"Good."

His guest laughed. "How did you end up in a American prison? It would have made more sense if you landed yourself in an English one. You spend a lot of time in that one in London."

France smiled. "One of the security guards there is a very stunning girl with really pretty eyes. I like to visit her for my presence reminds her of the beauty of the world. Since I am so beautiful. I feel sorry that she has to spend so much time looking at all the gloomy-"

His visitor cut him annoyed by his ego. "So why are you in a American prison? Without a stunning female security guard?"

"You don't want to know, Spain."

Spain smiled. "You have time to tell me."

"It's a really long story."

"You always say that."

"No, really this one is actually a long story," the Frenchman corrected. "In fact, I don't even remember the middle to well..." His voice trailed off in thought.

The Spaniard raised an eyebrow. "That long?"

France sighed. "Yeah..."

"You sure that you weren't drunk and just blacked out for the middle part?"

"Actually, there wasn't any drinking this time-"

Spain cut him off. "Jell-O shots are still considering drinking."

"Do you really think that I would try Jell-O shots?" the Frenchman said disgusted.

"They're not as that bad if you-"

France cut him off. "Jell-O was invented by America. And America learned his cooking ability from England."

The Spaniard chuckled. "Isn't that being a little stubborn, amigo?"

"No." He crossed his arms. "I'm saving my self from death by food poisoning."

"Actually, you're just saving yourself from being constipated," Spain corrected. "I don't think a Jell-O shot will kill you."

"I'm still not going to find out."

Spain laughed. "You making me think that its some sort of science experiment!"

The Frenchman joined the Spaniard in laughter. "You just gave me a amusing mental image!"

"Oh?" Spain asked.

"Lab coats can be very sexy," France stated chuckling. "Very sexy. Especially, if the scientist isn't wearing-" He cut himself off with his own laughter.

The Spaniard joined the Frenchman in laughing. Their laughter continued for a quite awhile until one of the American prison guards gave them a mean look.

"So, are you going to tell me how you got yourself into a American prison?" Spain asked after the laugher died down, and the prison guard stopped staring at them.

France sighed. "It's a long story."

"You already said that."

"No, I mean a really long story that I was sober in."

"That's the first time that you got arrested without-"

The Frenchman cut the Spaniard off. "Hey, I've gone to prison without drinking!"

"Is that really something to be proud of?" Spain teased.

"Yes!" France blushed. "I don't know. I guess it just means that I'm not a alcoholic."

"Okay, Señor not a alcoholic, how did you end up in the slammer?"

One of the prison guards looked up at the wall clock. "You have ten minutes left for your visit," he told the Frenchman and the Spaniard.

France grinned. "I'll need more than ten minutes to tell you the story."

"Oh please, a story telling can't last more than ten minutes," Spain stated.

"This one will," the Frenchman said looking at the clock. "You'll have to visit me again, or bail me-"

"I'm not bailing you out this time."

"Why not?"

"I think its Prussia's turn to do the jail bailing." Spain paused and thought for a moment. "Yeah, it is his turn. I paid the bail for that little issue in Toronto last month. Oh, and before that-"

France cut him off. "Prussia's out beer tasting somewhere. He's not going to bail me out."

"What do you want me to do about that?" the Spaniard asked. "Do you want me to call Prussia and tell him that it's his turn to pay the bail?"

"No," the Frenchman answered. "That will result in me spending another night in this gloomy place, because we all know that he's going to take his sweet time getting here. Just bail me out of here."

"Nope." Spain laughed. "Its not my turn, amigo."

"So what?"

"If I bail you out this time, then Prussia is going to miss his turn," the Spaniard answered. "Wait! Does this even count?"

"What do you mean by does this count?"

"Well, the deal is that we take turns bailing each other out for things we get arrested doing together," Spain explained. "You sort of got yourself arrested without Prussia or me."

France huffed. "Its not like this is the first time its happened."

"Yeah, you do spend a lot of time in that London prison."

"If you saw that security guard's legs you'll understand. That girl is far to gorgeous to be working in a stuffy prison."

"Whatever." The Spaniard laughed. "Hey, you should get England to bail you out. Doesn't he normally bail you out of the London prison?"

"Yes," the Frenchman answered. "But this isn't the London prison."

"True," Spain said chuckling. "How did you end up in this American prison anyway?"

"I don't have time to tell you the story."

The Spaniard turned to look at the wall clock. "You have six minutes."

"Its actually four minutes," the security guard, who was watching them, corrected. "That clock's a little fast."

France smiled. "There is no way that I'll be able to tell my story in four minutes."

"Say what you can of the story now, and I'll revisit you tomorrow for you to finish."

The Frenchman looked back up at the clock. Four more minutes and the Spaniard would either have to leave, or bail him out. Hopefully, he'll get him curious enough to bail him out.

"France!" Spain said cutting France's clock staring off. "You're staring at the clock when you should be telling me how you got yourself in here."

France grinned, and stopped staring at the wall clock. "Okay, but before I start my tale, you're going to have to finish what I started."

"Huh?"

"Outside there's a second generation Nissan Z parked in the Duncan doughnuts parking lot," the Frenchman lied lowering his voice for the security guard couldn't here. "In the trunk you'll find a brief case-"

"What's in the brief case?" the Spaniard asked curious.

"Diapers," France answered pleased that he was making Spain curious with his lies. "You need to deliver them to the baboon."

"Baboon?"

"Yes. His name is Fabio. I left him in a kayak outside Roswell. Also inside the kayak you'll find another brief case."

"What's in that one?"

"I'm not sure. But, if I were to make a guess I'll say colones-"

"Costa Rican money?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure. Don't open that brief case."

"Okay I won't open it."

"Good. Also after you change Fabio, you'll need to take the kayak to the nearest Wal-Mart."

"Where is that?"

"I don't know. But in the Wal-Mart parking lot you'll need to give the baboon and the second brief case to the man with the bread."

"The man with the bread?"

"You'll know its him when you see him."

"How?"

"You'll just know. Oh, and stay away from the man with the fruit."

"Why?"

"He's not a nice guy, and he wants to eat Fabio."

"But he's carrying fruit."

"That's his cover. Do you remember everything I just told you?"

"Maybe. Can you run it by me again?"

"No time. I have to finish telling you the rest of it."

"But I don't think I remember everything before the fruit guy."

"Just do your best. After Fabio is delivered run into Wal-Mart, and buy as many grapefruits as you can."

"Why?"

"Carrying grapefruit will be your new cover. By carrying fruit you'll be able to-"

The security guard cut him off. "Looks like we're out of time! This visiting session is now over!"

"I'll be able to what?" Spain asked as the security guard approached France.

"You'll be able to-"

The security guard cut France off again. "Visiting time is over Frenchy." He grabbed his arm. "Come on, time to head back to your cell."

"Oh joy," the Frenchman said sarcastically as the guard moved him forward.

"Wait!" the Spaniard cried stopping them from moving forward. "I'll like to bail my friend out of jail!"

* * *

After all the paperwork was done, and France's stuff was returned, the two were able to walk out of the jail.

"Hey, there isn't a Duncan doughnuts out here," Spain stated frowning.

The Frenchman laughed. "Well, duh, I made all that up."

The Spaniard's eyes went wide. "Even the part about Fabio the baboon?"

"Yep," France said smirking. "I needed to get you curious enough to bail me out, and I can't believe that you believed that load of crap."

"You're mean," Spain spat glaring at France. "You got me to bail you out when it wasn't my turn."

"So what?"

The Spaniard huffed. "So, are you going to tell me how you really ended up in jail? Or are you going to make up some more crap?"

The Frenchman smiled. "I was drinking." He pointed. "The cop pulled me over at that stoplight."

Spain sighed. "I want to hate you so badly."

"Of course you do, but I'm too likeable."

"No, you're just a great companion," the Spaniard corrected. "Speaking of great companions, let's call Prussia and hang out."

"And we get into trouble with the law," France said smiling, "it's Prussia's turn to pay the bail!"

* * *

**A/N**

**Look TheNextAlice I wrote you an oneshot featuring France and Spain. If I have time tomorrow I'll write the idea you gave me. Hopefully, you liked my idea. **

**Please, please, please, point out any grammar mistakes. **


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